


When the Lights Are Down

by MrowSaystheCat



Series: Archangel, Dark Angel [6]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, I hope this isn't too over the top from here, M/M, and now we start to get to the weirdness, because shits about to really go down the abyss, some characterizations are going to start turning on their ears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-12 17:21:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11741694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrowSaystheCat/pseuds/MrowSaystheCat
Summary: Enter Richonne.





	When the Lights Are Down

Michonne had felt it first; a shifting in the air. A wind of change, something like she’d pretended not to feel at the onset of the end of the world. This time, she would not ignore it; this time, it would not wring the cost of turning a blind eye from her. She’d learned her lesson. Listen to your instincts; if they speak, there is a reason for them to say what they do. 

So, she signaled to Rick; turning from their typical trek through the outskirts of the safe zone, right back the way they’d came. Something had been missed. Something important. She wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it made her draw her steps quickly through the shadows; eyes constantly moving, hunting the darkness for any spark or shade which didn’t belong to the natural world. Or, rather, to the falling manmade structures which were left behind by the dead. Her heart was in her throat, worry wringing the air from her even as she quickened her breath. 

When she found the house, what her instincts had zeroed in on, she drew her katana; stepping through the open door in to a bastion of darkness. The blade caught a gleaming light from no visible source, proof that her instincts hadn’t led her astray. Something had taken place here, and recently.

_Maybe there’s still hope._

Why would she think such a thing, such a random thing? Why would fear be bubbling through her; why could she feel it like a cold caress up her spine? 

She drew the katana up, and then struck through the thickest parts of the shadows; trying to cut in to any magic which might still linger. There were whispers through the shadows; things that only a Hunter could hear. Trained to notice, though not to engage with. A swirl of smoke dispersed, and as she lowered herself closer to the floor; the first little spatters of crimson could be noted upon the mirror her blade served as. She looked over the clean metal, then back to the floor; seeing them with the naked eye was difficult. There was too little blood loss for it to be a death, perhaps; but that much magic in one single place within this house? No, something had happened here. Something that tied in to the world she was sworn to keep in balance. 

Without waiting for Rick, she drew something from her back pocket. It looked like a very thin compact, but there was a tiny strip of paper that popped out from one side of it; almost like a litmus strip. Michonne knelt to the tiny crimson droplets which stained the hardwood; letting the paper drink it all up. She then opened the compact, revealing a mirror inside. It was made of obsidian; flat and radiant, the colors sparkling – catching that unsourced light, much like her blade had. However, as she watched the mirror, the blood she’d collected seemed to draw itself across the flat, black glass.

And as it drew? The pictures began to move; soon shifting from simple lines, to forms which seemed organic. It was suddenly very much like watching a movie on a handheld device, really. However, what she saw didn’t delight her – not in the least.

“Oh, Glenn.” She breathed out, giving a shake of her head as painful emotions crossed her face. Her lower lip trembled softly, as she watched the Vampire feed upon her friend. Her brother. A touch came to her shoulder, and a small jump came through her muscles, but then she calmed some as she recognized Rick at her back. He was staring at the mirror then, too. Over her shoulder. They spared one another a glance; each one of them deeply saddened and troubled by the moments they were witnessing in the glass. 

Eventually, Rick had to look away; he couldn’t watch the young man being turned, being cradled like a lover by a monster of the night. 

After a few seconds, Michonne gasped again; dropping the mirror with a startled ‘no’ choking from her lips. When Rick turned, he saw her pick it up.

“What? What is it?”

“It can’t…. He can’t be…” She breathed out, cupping the mirror and shaking her head softly; feeling the first tears start to slide down her face. Then, she slowly turned the mirror, so that Rick could see. It was Glenn, laying in the Vampire’s arms; staring intently through the mirror. His eyes were glowing, softly; a swirling kaleidoscope of onyx, amber and gold – slit pupils widening gently as they fixed upon the faces staring at him with so many mixed emotions. 

“He sees us. Rick…”

“He was a Watcher.” They said in unison, and Michonne snapped the mirror shut; breaking the connection with the fledgling Vampire that had stared back at them, knowingly. The soft arch to one eyebrow marking its vision within Michonne’s mind.

“How? How didn’t we know?”

“He probably didn’t.” Rick told her gently, reaching out to touch her wrist. He slid the touch to her hand, and they locked their fingers together in silence. Grasping one another tightly. She was biting her lip against more tears, though they were flowing freely as she grieved for the young man she’d held so close to her heart. Rick let out a soft sigh, continuing with what he knew he had to say. Most likely what she didn’t want to hear; their respective type of Hunters had never agreed on much, when it came to such things. Emotional connections to those they were meant to control. “But, you know what this means…”

“There’s others, in the group.” Michonne closed her eyes, shook her head softly. Trying to think through everything she’d been taught about a situation like this. If Glenn had been unaware of what he was, then there were others that were. There were definitely witches in their group; had to be. “And he’s…” She let out a breath, shook her head. “This isn’t good, for any of us. Especially not for him.”

“You think we can still help him?” Rick asked; sitting with her, the two of them watching each other in the darkness where their friend, their family member, had recently traded one life for another. It was Glenn, after all. The young man had saved him, led him back to his family. If there was anyone he’d forsake old rules for…

“He’s innocent, Rick; Glenn can’t help what’s been done. A trained Watcher wouldn’t give himself like that. He couldn’t. Especially not a male; you know how it is. They’re too rare to let go for the women.” She shook her head, trying to remember all that she’d read in her training days. Watcher lore was tricky; while they took account of the world and all that went on within it, they were the most powerful of the witch castes. Powerful and rare; rarer still were the males. This was a sacrifice. One that the victim, Glenn, was unaware of. The Vampire was probably clueless about it, too – Watchers kept their secrets close. They were manipulative. They knew when to act – but what reason could this be for? Glenn was now in a very delicate and yet powerful state. 

“We call it being ‘thrice blessed by Luna’.” Carol’s voice startled them; she stood in the doorway, watching them with a soft, knowing smile. “He can save us, you know. Put all the world right back where it needs to be; where it should have been all this time.”

With that, she turned from them; pulling the hood of the simple, elegant robe she wore over her head. Her hands folded in to the long sleeves, she began to walk away; her clothing starting to shift around her in to the everyday fashions she usually wore. A disguise on top of a disguise. Carol didn’t get far, however; the tip of Michonne’s katana was right at the woman’s throat a few seconds later. Gently, the older woman used the back of her hand to press against the threat of the blade; blue eyes calm as she stared at the raging Tigress before her. 

“You won’t, Hunter. Don’t pretend. He’ll need me as much as he’ll need the two of you – maybe even more.”

“How do you think one young man… fledgling vampire, a _Kitten_ , can change anything about this world?” Rick’s voice was behind her, gruff and angry - and as she moved the blade from her neck; Michonne’s threat withdrawing slightly – Carol looked over her shoulder at him. To see the barrel of a familiar Colt Python staring her in the eye. Answer or be forever silenced.

“You Hunters, always so derisive.” Carol gave a soft roll of her eyes, but then she grew serious; the tiny smile on her lips becoming a thin line. “It is prophecy. And he’s a Watcher. Now with both Vampire and Lycan blood, to top that which God blessed him with by birth. You don’t think that can change the world, Rick?” 

“What prophecy?” Michonne sounded calmer than Rick; but there was a great deal of mistrust in her voice. Carol couldn’t blame her, really. Her eyes found the other woman then, and she gave a coy little smirk. 

“One that we’ve kept sacred for a few generations now. We couldn’t stop humanity from destroying itself; but there’s always a plan to pick up the pieces. The first step is Glenn. The second is working together. All of us.”

“Won’t we need to get his Sire to work with us?” Rick again; voice gravelly and soft. Pure danger. 

“He will. You don’t think we didn’t make certain we’d get someone that would love him enough to completely deny his own old grudges?”

“The Vampire _knows_?”

“Daryl? Hardly. He’s still convinced he played me and won Glenn.” Another soft roll of Carol’s eyes; glancing towards the sky above as if for help in understanding some individuals.

“Keep talking…”

The weapons were lowered, and Carol let out a small breath she’d not realized she’d been holding in. Pretending to be as calm as she was – that wasn’t always as easy as it looked. Really; she’d been terrified that the two Hunters would deny her the steps they needed to take in order for this to work.

“He’ll figure out Glenn is different, and he’ll come for me. He’ll know I’m the key to Glenn understanding what he is. What he can do. There’s a lot that’s about to happen, poor boys.” She gave a soft sigh, and shook her head – looking up once again to the moon above them. “Give them three nights. They’ll come to us… Or, well, to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, this is probably a bit much, isn't it? I hope it doesn't suck. This is pretty much mindless self indulgence on my part, honestly. I won't feel bad if anyone jumps ship.


End file.
